


Desperate

by ladielazarus



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8825602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladielazarus/pseuds/ladielazarus
Summary: Late nights sometimes bring late night cravings...





	

Dean is sleeping. He’s deep in sleep, in fact, and so he’s somewhat startled when Seamus wakes him up. 

Granted, it isn’t being done in a startling or particularly abrupt way. In fact, he doesn’t know how long Seamus has actually been placing those soft, but pleading, kisses around his neck, collarbone, ears, and jawline. However, he’s fairly certain that the murmured and insistent pleas of ‘Dean, wake up. Wake up Dean.” have just started.

“Hmm?” he groggily asks, his eyes blinking open in the dim light of their bedroom. It’s so dark that he can barely make out Seamus’s silhouette, but he already knows where he is, anyway. Seamus is making quite sure of that. “What is it, Shay? You all right?”

“Yeah,” Seamus nods, but continues his steady assault on Dean, progressing to kiss him properly a few times now that he knows Dean is awake. “I’m fine. But… y’know… sort of not,” he says, and Dean can hear the slight smile in his voice. It’s enough to keep the panic from rising.

“Okay,” he says, hissing slightly when Seamus bites down lightly on his lower lip. “So, what? You woke me up because…”

He’s pretty sure that he knows, but he likes to hear Seamus say it anyway.

“Need it.” That’s all that Seamus says, but it hits Dean like a jolt of electricity anyway. After all, the way that Seamus says it combined with his wandering hands doesn’t exactly leave a lot of room for interpretation. And, just in case it does, the hardness that Dean can feel pressed against his thigh removes any sense of plausible deniability left.

“Ah. I see,” he said, running his hands lightly through Seamus’s hair, gripping a bit so that he can pull his head back up for a long kiss. When they break apart, Dean is grinning broadly. “So, you’re waking me up in the middle of the night for what? A quick fuck? Classy, Irish. Is that all that I am to you?”

He pouts dramatically, but he knows that it isn’t the first time that either of them has woken the other for sex. In fact, it’s a fairly standard aspect of their relationship. They’re in their early twenties, after all, and they have very healthy sex drives.

Too healthy, apparently.

“Had a dream,” Seamus supplies, still not quite at complete sentences. “And now, I really, really want you.”

“Me?” Dean says, running his fingers over Seamus’s bare torso, enjoying the familiar feeling of smooth skin under his fingertips. “Well, I suppose me is better than ‘it’.”

Seamus snorts. Their sex life is always full of this sort of give and take, and Dean really loves it that way.

“Would you prefer I get really specific, love?”

“I would,” Dean nods, shifting so that he can flip them over. He wants to be on top. He doesn’t think that Seamus will mind. And, if he does, he’ll say. “In fact, I’m going to have to insist on it.”

He says this while reaching for the nightstand drawer for the tube of lubricant. He isn’t cruel, after all. He’s going to give Seamus what he wants.

As soon as he asks for it.

“Oh, I see. Like that, is it?” Seamus asks, his voice quickly dissolving into a groan as Dean starts the earliest stages of preparation. “In… In that case…”

Dean takes joy in the fact that he can stop Seamus’s coherent thought train with something as basic as touch, but he isn’t willing to let him off the hook that easily.

“Keep going,” he says, his tone warning. “I’ll stop.”

“No. Don’t. I…” Seamus grits his teeth and mutters curses in a combination of Irish and English before continuing. “I had… fuck. I would very much appreciate it if you would– more– if you would try your very best to fuck me through this mattress.”

Dean pretends to consider the request while adding another finger and Seamus lets out an actual whine that Dean can feel in his toes.

“If I do, will you let me go back to sleep?” he asks, as though he isn’t just as desperately needy as Seamus is by this point. He can’t help it. The whole thing is always so ridiculously hot.

“Uh-huh,” Seamus nods. “Definitely. Won’t even complain– ooh.”

Dean isn’t quite as gentle as he could be. It isn’t harsh, really, but just a little rougher than normal. Sometimes, it’s necessary. As urgent as things become then, it really shouldn’t surprise anyone that it’s a frenzied rush of groans, sighs, and Seamus’s muttered begging that ends everything only a little while later. Seamus holds out a bit longer than Dean does, but not by much. Especially not once Dean gets his hands involved and then it’s just so fucking good.

Always is.

They both collapse against the pillows, panting and gasping. Seamus turns his head so that he can kiss Dean hard.

“You’re my favourite,” he says, the smile still audible in his voice, and Dean grins. “I really think it’s important for you to know that just now.”

“I think that you’d love anyone who did to you what I just did, but I’ll take it anyway,” Dean chuckles, pressing another kiss to Seamus’s temple and settling back down into the bed to go back to sleep.

“Probably. But I don’t tell my other boyfriend that,” Seamus teases, and the end result is a tickle/cuddle fight that goes on for another five minutes or so before they finally settle down, Seamus fingers tracing patterns on the skin of Dean’s shoulders and back.


End file.
